


I Hope Our Paths Will Croissant Again

by IBoatedHere



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flirting, Fluff, Food, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7264561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBoatedHere/pseuds/IBoatedHere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caleb sprinkles flour on the counter and dumps out the tender dough so he can roll it out. </p>
<p>Once he gets it to the proper size he drizzles on melted butter then spreads a thick layer of brown sugar and cinnamon and rolls the dough up, pressing at the seam to seal it. </p>
<p>The sheet that is in the oven now have walnuts and pecans mixed into the filling and the ones he’ll do next with have a raspberry filling. Maybe blueberry. He could put lemon zest in the dough. It’s an idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hope Our Paths Will Croissant Again

**Author's Note:**

> Title from this post:  
> http://iboatedhere.tumblr.com/post/146128349434

Caleb sprinkles flour on the counter and dumps out the tender dough so he can roll it out. 

Once he gets it to the proper size he drizzles on melted butter then spreads a thick layer of brown sugar and cinnamon and rolls the dough up, pressing at the seam to seal it. 

The sheet that is in the oven now have walnuts and pecans mixed into the filling and the ones he’ll do next with have a raspberry filling. Maybe blueberry. He could put lemon zest in the dough. It’s an idea. 

He needs to make a triple batch of cream cheese frosting. It’s a recipe he knows by heart. One that’s been perfected over the years. 

He cuts the dough into even slices, places them in a baking dish, and covers them so they can rise one more time. 

The oven timer goes off just as there's a knocking on the door and Caleb sighs heavily and wipes his hand on his apron because he knows what this is.

He takes the first batch of cinnamon rolls out of the oven and walks out of the kitchen, his footsteps falling in perfect rhythm to the knocking. 

“Okay, hold on.”

Anna’s banging on the door and Abigail has both her hands on the glass. 

Caleb slows down and takes his time unlocking the door. It's a lot more fun to do this when it's ten degrees with two feet of snow on the ground. 

“Did you lose your keys again?”

Abigail points at Anna. “She did. Mine is somewhere in here.” She gestures vaguely towards the giant bag she’s holding. 

“Did you look for it?”

“I glanced. It’s in there somewhere, don’t worry. Are you going to let us in or not?”

Caleb steps to the side to let them in. “Can you make sure one of you has it next time? I was just about to make frosting and I still have to roll out another batch of cinnamon rolls.”

“Another batch? How many have you done?”

“This will be my third.”

Both of the women freeze in the middle of the bakery.

“Your third?” Abigail asks. “What time did you get here?”

“Around three.”

“Holy shit. What the hell are you doing here this early?”

“I have to make the stuff we sell so I can make money so I can pay you and you can make money. It’s a chain reaction kind of a thing. They didn’t teach you that in college? I didn’t even go and I know that.”

“Why do you have to get here so early?”

“It takes time for the dough to rise. I also made muffins and turnovers and I want to make a couple of batches of cookies.”

“I cannot believe you were here at three. It’s a Sunday, Caleb. God’s day.”

“Annie, I couldn't tell you the last time I went to church.”

“You could still honor the day of rest. We’re already open at least two hours before every other bakery and coffee shop around which is something I still don’t understand.”

“We should open at eight like everyone else and I think that’s still too early for a weekend.”

“When we open at six we catch the early crowd.”

“The early crowd? On a Sunday? I’m pretty sure we’re the only people that are up this early.”

“Some people like to get a jump on their day. Even on the weekend.”

“People like you? I swear, you need to get a boyfriend so you have a reason to sleep in on the weekends.”

“Or you could trust us to bake once in awhile.”

“You know I trust you two with my life.”

“Just not with your recipes.”

“I’ve perfected them. I’ve spent years with them. I like them done a certain way.”

“You could always make them the night before, freeze them, and then bake them off in the morning. You’d save yourself hours of time.”

Caleb looks at her like she’s crazy. 

Anna rolls her eyes towards Abigail and drops it. 

 

******

 

Usually it’s Abigal behind the counter taking orders.

She has an easy way with the customers. She’s bright and kind and has learned how to turn her head or wait until they’re looking through their wallet for cash or their card before she rolls her eyes at them so they can’t see. 

It’s a talent he and Anna haven’t mastered and probably never will so they’re in charge of clearing tables, restocking the case, and making the more time consuming coffee orders. 

They work as a well oiled machine always knowing what the other needs- Anna sliding behind the counter to make a latte or Caleb disappearing into the kitchen and reappearing with a fresh tray of Napoleons right when they’re needed- until Anna and Abigail inevitably decide to take their break at the sametime and leave Caleb all alone out front. 

“We only opened a half an hour ago.”

“Yes but we’ve been here for longer.” 

“You think you’ll be able to handle the crowd of people rushing through the doors?” Anna gestures to the almost empty room. They’ve had a total of three customers but Caleb refuses to let Anna know that she has a point. There’s not a lot of foot traffic at six on a Sunday. 

“It's gonna pick up.” 

“We all know it'll be another couple hours before that happens.”

“Well only be in the backroom, Caleb,” Abby tells him. “Yell if you need us.”

Ten minutes later there are three people sitting at the tables sipping coffee and eating danishes and cinnamon rolls. 

It’s quiet and nice but also a little boring and he’d take Abigail and Anna’s light hearted teasing over complete silence. Caleb’s about to head back there and drag them out when he walks in. 

He's wearing black running shorts and a grey t-shirt that's damp and dark along the collar with sweat. He has an armband wrapped around his left bicep just beneath his sleeve that’s holding his phone and he tugs his earbuds out as he walks to the counter. 

Caleb should be better than this. He should be proactive and say hello first; welcome him to the bakery, ask him if he’s ever been in before- he doesn’t think he has been because Caleb would remember him-, suggest something for him to order- he’d start him off with an English muffin, they’re still hot from the oven and Caleb makes his own strawberry jam. Or he would offer him honey because it’s farmed locally and you can’t really go wrong with a big pat of butter. Abigail might be the one at the register the most but Caleb can do this. He’s a grown adult. A business owner. He’s been around the world and dealt with all kinds of people, good and bad.

He should be professional. He shouldn’t be staring all dumbfounded at the man that just walked in who is now standing with his hands flat on the counter and smiling at him. 

“Hi,” the guys says and it takes Caleb a few more seconds to respond.

“Hi. Sorry...I’m...hi. Sorry.”

The guys laughs and shakes his head. “It’s alright, it’s early. I’m surprised you’re even open. No one else is.”

“I like to be open earlier than everyone else so we can get the morning rush.”

He nods and slowly turns his head to look around at the mostly empty tables.

“It’ll pick up,” Caleb defends, starting to feel more comfortable, “what can I get for you?”

“A large coffee. Black.”

“Anything else?” 

He hums and leans back to look at the display case. “Do you have anything that’s gluten free?”

“Oh.” This isn’t the first time he has been asked this or some variation of it. At least once a day someone will ask if they have anything that is dairy, peanut, or gluten free. He tries to help out as much as he can but he buys flour in bulk and needs a new shipment delivered every other day. “No, I’m sorry.” 

Most of the time the apology is met with a frown and a shoulder shrug as the customer orders coffee or tea and nothing else. Occasionally someone takes their frustrations out on whoever is behind the counter and even though Abigail is one of the calmest people Caleb has ever met she has her limit and Caleb has had to step in a few times to placate them.

“I’m really sorry.” He feels the need to apologize again.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal. I really shouldn’t be eating pastries anyways, I mean, I just went for a run it would defeat the purpose. Just the coffee is fine.”

Caleb nods and watches intently as a bead of sweat runs down the side of his neck and disappears beneath the edge of his shirt. 

“Hot.” He doesn’t even know he’s saying it until the guy hums in response. “You’re hot.”

“Oh.”

“You look hot. It’s hot.” Caleb scrambles to make this better. He hears someone snort behind him. Anna and Abigail have picked the worst time to come back from their break. “It’s hot outside.” 

“Oh, yeah, kind of. Sorry.” He looks down at the sweat soaked t-shirt he’s wearing then lifts the collar to wipe his forehead. The bottom of his shirt lifts up and Caleb doesn’t look away from the skin that’s exposed. When he drops his shirt he runs his hand through his hair messing it up and Caleb presses the buttons on the register extra hard just to give them something to do besides reaching over the counter and putting every last one of them back in place. “I try to get out there before it gets too hot but….can you believe it's not even officially summer yet? It's only going to get worse. I don't know what I'm going to do.” 

“Oh. Well.” _You're doing fine. Keep doing it._ “Do you want that coffee iced?” 

“Yeah, that would be great.”

He tells him the total as Abigail reaches around him to grab a to-go cup. “What’s your name?”

“Ben.” He smiles at her as well then slides the armband off to get to his cash. He pulls out a five that has certainly taken a beating while trapped between the fabric and his skin. It’s a little damp and Ben looks slightly mortified as he hands it over to Caleb. “I’m sorry.”

Anna gently hip checks Caleb out of the way so she can start working on getting the line that’s formed behind Ben down. Caleb hadn’t even noticed it. He doesn't even think to point out to Anna that they’re starting to get people in well before she said they would. 

Abigail leans over the counter and hands Ben his coffee with a smile. 

He takes a sip and thanks the both of them and starts to walk away. That’s when Caleb remembers that he’s still holding the five which is way more than the price of a black coffee.

“Wait.” He’s almost climbing over the counter and Ben turns back around immediately. “Your change.”

“Keep it and have a good day.”

“Okay, sure, thanks, you too.”

“What the hell was that?” Anna asks once he’s out the door.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Abigail gently wraps an arm around his shoulders and tugs him towards the register. “Put the money down and go wash your hands. That boy was a mess.”

Anna elbows him. “Hot mess, right Caleb?” 

Caleb slips the money in the till and mumbles “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

******

 

Ben comes back. 

Not always at the sametime and not always fresh from a run. 

Caleb misses the sweat and the way he’s always be just a little out of breath when he asked for his iced coffee but seeing him in jeans and a soft, blue t-shirt is nice too. 

He doesn’t offer him anything to eat because he figures he can’t have it. Even though his lemon bars are worth risking any kind of allergic reaction- they’ve won awards, they’re always the first thing mentioned on every Yelp review. 

Ben seems perfectly happy with just the coffee. 

Most of the time he takes it to go making sure he stops and says hello and goodbye to Caleb even if he’s not behind the counter. Anna told him she caught him pretending to tie his shoe one day while waiting for him to emerge from the kitchen just so Ben could smile and wave at him before he left. 

Caleb’s not sure he believes her. He knows he wants to. It’s a nice thought, one that makes chest feel all warm and heavy but he’s not prepared to get his hopes up like that. 

Occasionally he’ll stay and sip his coffee slowly at a corner table with his back to the window which Caleb finds a little odd. Usually it’s the other way. People like to face the street so they can people watch but Ben always has a book with him (a real, ratty paperback book- not a tablet or Kindle and Caleb’s heart goes through that squeezing feeling again) so maybe he doesn’t want the distraction. 

It’s quite the distraction for Caleb though.

It’s hard to count proper change or focus on making a latte with the complicated milk order ( a quarter skim, quarter whole, quarter fat free, quarter half and half) when Ben is sitting over there in the morning sun idly turning the pages of a battered book, pausing to write something in the margins or chew at his thumbnail. He has to remake the latte twice and then a third when Ben looks up and smiles shyly at him then bites his lip to try to hide it. He ends up not charging the woman for her drink and she walks away in a huff. 

Ben watches her walk by and rolls his eyes at her on Caleb’s behalf and Caleb feels like there’s a vice pressing almost hard enough on his heart to break it. 

 

******

 

“I think we should put some gluten free options on the menu. Also some dairy free stuff.”

When he glances up Anna and Abigail are staring at him. They have a meeting once a month to discuss how things are going. If anything needs to be changed or if there’s a problem they all haven’t been made aware of. Usually it’s lighthearted and fun. They stuff themselves with what’s left over from the day that Caleb refuses to sell tomorrow and they laugh more than talk. It’s not often he’s met with cold, blank stares. 

“What’s the matter?”

Anna puts down her frosted sugar cookie. It looks like a sunflower. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” 

“I suggested this last month and you told me no.”

“You told her if she mentioned it again she'd be fired,” Abigail says. 

“A total empty threat but a threat none the less. You said we didn't need to, our sales were great and I said it's not about the sales it's about catering to a larger demographic and you said we don't need to cater, if they need something special they can go to one of the specialty bakeries down the block.”

“And when I pointed out how stupid that was, basically turning customers away and telling them to go somewhere else and you changed the subject to what color flowers we should have on the tables next month and wouldn’t let me talk anymore.”

“I don't remember that happening.”

“It happened.”

“Well.” He taps his knuckles on the counter and bites his lip. “Maybe a vegan option too.” 

Anna gets up and walks into the kitchen without saying a word. 

Abigail throws her pen across the room. 

“What do you think we should do about the flowers next month?” He calls after them. “I kind of like yellow.” 

 

*****

 

“This one tastes more like drywall.”

“Is that better or worse than tasting like cardboard?”

“Well.” Cicero chews on the cupcake thoughtfully. He’s been helping Caleb out in the afternoons with taste testing new recipes after Abigail and Anna had had enough of it. “Drywall is more crumbly and the cardboard is more soggy so I don’t know.”

“You don’t want to try either again do you?”

“No.”

“Dammit.” He slides a danish onto Cicero's plate. “Try this one.”

“Didn’t I already?”

“I changed it. I added more butter.”

Cicero takes a large bite, winces, then nods. “The filling is really good. Could you just serve the filling?”

“No.”

“Can I go now? I’m starting to get a stomachache.”

“Just three more then you can leave. Here.” He shoves a chocolate chip cookie into his hand. “That’s vegan. Tell me what you think.”

Cicero groans and takes a bite.

 

*****

 

It takes them two long weeks but Caleb finally comes up with a menu he’s happy with. 

Gluten free lemon pound cake, banana bread, and cream puffs. Dairy free strawberry crisp and dense chocolate brownies. Vegan chocolate chip cookies, blueberry muffins, and cupcakes with vegan buttercream frosting. 

Caleb designates the top corner of the display case to them and talks Abigail into writing out the signs for them because she has the best handwriting. 

“I’ll do it,” she tells him as she sits in front of the place cards. Caleb eagerly presents her with a brand new fountain pen. “But I’m not happy you’ve been sending my boy home a stomache ache so often.”

“It was for a good cause. Think of all the people he’ll be helping out. He’s a true hero. Can he come by tomorrow afternoon, I still want to work on that cinnamon roll recipe. I’m going to try to adjust the ratio of potato and tapioca flours more. That might be the problem.”

Abigail glares at him and he smiles until the corners of his eyes crinkle and pats her on the shoulder.

“Can you write those in that loopy cursive you have? I think that’ll look the best.”

 

******

 

Caleb looks out the window of the kitchen door as Ben devours a bowl of gluten free angel food cake topped with fresh berries and barely whipped cream. 

It’s a brand new recipe that Cicero had approved but he’s still not sure he could be in the same room with Ben if he decided he didn’t like it. He’d be crushed. 

Ben tells him that he loved it and it’s the only thing on the menu Caleb doesn’t rotate off regularly. 

 

******

 

“I’m a little concerned because I’ve heard that tenth graders get a lot more homework than ninth graders and he’s going to have to start thinking about the SATs and what colleges he’s going to want to attend on top of soccer and track. What if he doesn’t have enough time to do it all?”

“You should ask Ben what to expect. I think he teaches tenth grade.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Ben.” 

“My-. The Ben that comes in here all the time?”

“Yes,” Anna eyes him slyly. “That Ben.”

“How do you know he's a teacher?”

“We talk sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“Why? Does that bother you?”

“No, I just didn't realize you guys were so close.” 

Anna laughs and Abigail shakes her head. 

“We're not close. He's a customer.”

“So?”

Anna scoffs. “I can't believe you're jealous that my interactions with him extend slightly further than stuttering out a question about the weather and staring at his ass as he walks out.” 

“To be fair, Anna, we all stare,” Abigail says.

“It's so not the same thing and you know it. Just talk to him if you want to talk to him. He's really nice and I think he'd rather be talking to you anyways.” 

 

*****

 

“Here you go.”

Caleb sets the plate on the table in front of Ben. He finally perfected that cinnamon roll recipe. More tapioca than potato flour, a lot more butter, and frosting and everything was fixed. 

Ben puts his book down and smiles. “Thank you.” 

Caleb stands there picking at an imperfection in the worn table top.

“Caleb?”

When he looks up Ben's still smiling at him then he nods towards the empty seat. 

“Do you want to sit down?”

“I don't want to bother you.”

“You're not.” He pushes the chair out with his foot. “Sit.”

“I am technically on my break…” Caleb sits and isn't sure what to do with his hands. He crosses them across his chest, puts them on the table, then settles for keeping them in his lap. 

“Are they going to be okay on their own? They won't need your help?”

“No, no, it's always the other way around. Either one of those women could single handedly run this plane no problem. It's me that needs the help.”

“That's not the way they tell it. They've both told me you built this place from the ground up. They said this place was about to be condemned.”

“That's why I got it for so cheap.”

“You fixed it up. You did all the new wiring yourself. You painted and made the menu and you do all the baking.”

“They told you all that?”

“Yeah. They talk you up a lot.”

Caleb swallows back the lump of emotion in his throat. He knows they care about him but it’s still nice to hear it. 

“They also say you keep insane hours. You’re here at three in the morning and don’t leave until well after closing. You never take a day off.”

“I like being here. I’m good at it. What else would I do?”

“I don’t know. Take a vacation. Travel.”

“I got all that out of my system when I was younger.”

Ben raises his eyebrows and prompts him to continue. 

“Dropped out of high school and took off for about five years.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Everywhere. It was a lot of fun until it got tiring and the little money I had ran out. Had to come back here and take a bunch of odd jobs before I saved enough to buy this place. It was falling down, sure, but it was still a chunk of money when I didn’t have a lot of it.” Caleb stops and worries that he’s said too much. High school dropout. Didn’t come from money. Still doesn’t have a ton of money.

Through not so subtle interrogations of Anna and Abigail he’s discovered that Ben went to Yale which isn’t exactly cheap. He knows he’s a teacher but he’s got a pair of Ray-Bans hanging from the collar of his shirt and the way he looks and holds himself just screams of Old Connecticut Money. (Later he’ll be shocked when Ben shakes his head and tells him Long Island. “Small town. Small population. My father is a reverend and my mom was a librarian.” Caleb will say “no accent?” and Ben will look him dead in the eyes and say “they make you drop it once you cross into campus or else they kick you out.” and Caleb will laugh about it for the rest of the day.)

Now Ben smile and says “I can’t believe you did all that? I can’t believe you did all this on your own. I don’t even have a passport.”

“It really wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“It was,” Ben tells him. “It is.”

Caleb shifts in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable with Ben’s praise. 

He’s never really thought about it before. It was something he wanted to do and then just something he did. Millions of people have done exactly what he did. He never thought it was something to brag about. 

But sitting across from Ben as he takes a big bite of his specially made cinnamon roll and practically moans around it Caleb thinks that maybe it is. 

 

*****

 

“Ask him out.”

“I’m working my way up to it.”

“Moving at a snail's pace,” Anna sing-songs. “What have you got to lose?” Either he says yes or he says no.”

“What if he says no?”

Her face softens and there isn’t a hint of amusement in her voice when she says “he’ll say yes.”

 

******

 

Caleb comes out of the kitchen tieing a new apron around his waist. His old one is covered in flour and batter from the loaves of french bread he has been making all morning. 

It’s his first time emerging from the kitchen. He measured the ingredients and kneaded the dough extra slowly to give himself plenty of time to figure out what he wants to say to Ben. He’s going to ask him out. He’ll ask him to dinner- he already has a handful of restaurants with great ratings and an excellent gluten free menu in mind. 

He’s pleased to see the dining area is almost full and Anna and Abigail looking relaxed even though the line is about to reach the door. 

Ben is sitting at his usual table with a coffee in front of him and a man sitting across from him. He’s laughing around the straw and looking so comfortable and happy that the vice that’s always around Caleb’s heart when he thinks of Ben finally goes the extra bit and breaks it. 

There isn’t time for Caleb to be sad because Ben then lifts a croissant off a plate and Caleb knows for sure that is not on the gluten free menu. He can’t get it flakey no matter what he does and he refuses to serve a subpar croissant in his bakery. 

The dining area is small but it seems to take forever for Caleb to cross it.

He hops over the counter and across the floor. He can’t speak. There are no words coming out so he can’t warn Ben not to eat it, all he can do is slam into the table and knock it out of his hand and onto the floor.

People gasp. Someone drops their mug and it shatters on the ground. Abigail is beside him apologizing and Ben makes a sad little sound in the back of his throat as he looks down at his pastry. 

“I am so sorry,” Abigail repeats over and over again. She has Caleb by an elbow. “I would fire him except he owns the place but you’re more than welcome to call the cops. Use our phone. We’ll all be your witnesses. We’ll testify.”

“It’s fine, really. Caleb, are you okay?”

Caleb finally gets his breath back. “You can’t eat that. What are you thinking? I have the display very clearly marked with what’s gluten free and what’s not and that is not.”

“Gluten free?” Ben’s date says. “Oh Ben, tell me you’re not still doing that. I told him to stop doing that.”

Abigail shakes her head. She cares less about the way and more about making this better. “At least let me get you a replacement croissant or anything else you want. On the house. Or we could give you a refund.” She nods towards the man sitting with Ben. “You as well, anything you want. Do you want a gift card?”

“We don’t even hard gift cards,” Caleb says. 

Abigail pinches his side. Hard. “I will write something down on a Post-It and we will honor it, I promise.”

Ben waves his hand. “It’s really fine, Abby, I promise. Caleb, why do you think I can’t have this?” 

“Because you can’t have gluten. I looked it up, don’t you know how sick you’ll get?”

“I can have gluten. I’m not allergic.”

Caleb blinks at him. “What?”

His date touches Caleb on the arm to get his attention but he can’t look away from Ben. He doesn’t want to look at the other man. “I told him not to go down this path but he just can’t resist getting on the new health food kick. I said to him, gluten doesn’t have a problem with you, why do you want to have a problem with gluten, but he said he wanted to try it out to see if it made him feel any better and obviously it hasn’t because he made a beeline straight to the croissants this morning.”

“You can eat whatever you want?” Caleb asks him and Ben nods. “You can eat whatever you want and I spent weeks making a special menu for you?”

Ben covers his heart with his hand. “You did all that for me? I’m the reason why there’s new stuff on the menu?”

Abigail finally drops her hands from around his waist and shoves him instead.

“My son had a stomachache every day because you have a crush?”

“I know, I feel bad about that. I’ll make it up to him. I had to keep trying things. I wanted it to be perfect.”

Ben makes a small, pleased sound and Caleb swears he sees some of the fight leave her eyes. 

“I didn’t want to be weird about it.”

“Yes,” Anna says from behind the counter, “and this isn’t weird at all.” 

“This is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Ben’s date says and Caleb finally feels the humiliation sink in. 

“Refund everyone in here,” Caleb tells Abigail. “Get these two whatever they want. I am so sorry, Ben. I don’t know what came over me.”

“You were worried about me,” he says softly with way too much understanding. 

Caleb really gets a good look at his date. Maybe a little older with the same shade of blue in his eyes and slightly darker hair. “I’m sorry to you too.” He covers his face with his hands. “God, I can’t believe I did this to you in front of your date.”

Ben and the guy react at the exact same time.

“This is not a date,” Ben says, voice strong but panicked. 

The other man’s voice is laced with a slight hint of humor. “This isn't a date, not a date. I'm his brother, Sam, and if you're Caleb, the cute baker he’s been talking about nonstop since the start of summer then whatever you're feeling towards him is mutual. He would very much like to go out on a date with you. Schools out for the summer so he has a ton of free time. Ball is in your court about the time. Seriously, all he does all day is come here and text me telling me about how good you look in a certain color shirt, apparently royal blue really does it for him so do whatever you want with that.”

“Sam,” Ben hisses and kicks him hard beneath the table. 

Sam doesn’t react except for leaning down and rubbing at his leg but when he stands there’s a slight limp. “Please.” He puts his hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “Date my brother. Put me out of my misery. Sit, I’m going to get a another croissant because they looked really good. You two talk.”

He hobbles up to the register following Abigail who takes care of him herself. 

Caleb slides into the empty seat and people being to turn back to each other. The noise level in the room picks up again but he and Ben are quiet. 

“That was my brother,” Ben says. “Sam.”

“He seems nice.”

“He’s an asshole. But he’s not wrong. I talk about you a lot.” He shrugs but clears his throat and takes a deep sip of his coffee. 

“I talk about you a lot too.”

“Really?” He waits for Caleb to nod before he adds “and you made all that stuff for me?”

“You’re not the only one that asked for it. It’s been selling really well.”

“But I was what made you do it?”

“Yes. It was a good idea and I should have done it a long time ago but it was you.”

Ben’s smile is soft as he tips his head slightly to the side. “Do you want to go out with me sometime?”

Caleb’s answers is immediate. “Yes.” 

 

******

 

On Sunday morning Anna and Abigail bang on the door for twenty minutes before they give up and Abby has to dump her bag on the sidewalk to find the key. 

The whole place is empty and dark. 

In the kitchen they find a stack of recipes with a note on top in Ben’s neat handwriting.

_Anna and Abigail,_  
_Caleb will be in late this morning, if at all. Don’t call. We’re busy. He trusts you. Have fun._  
_-Ben_

“Can you believe that?”

“He did what you told him to do.”

Anna sighs and claps her hands together. “Okay,” she throws an apron to Abigail who catches it easily. “Let’s start baking.”


End file.
